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Coming from a hungry country to a full country is quite a transition. My kids see food in absolutely everything. Playdough? We’re not making monsters, or balls, we’re making fufu.

Books? That’s not a crescent moon. It’s a banana.

A early childhood development specialist was here recently evaluating Charlotte and Grayson. She brought hours worth of toys and manipulatives in order to assess their skills and development. To her surprise, everything was turned into food. Cups? Sticks? Why, it’s a spoon and a bowl, of course. Beading strings? Bon bon! (Candy).

She eventually had to change her assessment tactics midway due to everything being turned into a vehicle for food consumption. It was funny, and darling, and sad all at once. I am humbled at the “ease” in which our pantries and grocery carts are filled brimful and food is only a thought away.

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Yesterday, ’round 4 o’clock in the mid-sun afternoon, my hands pushed lightly on the backs of three laughing children. The sun shone on us, lingering and bright as it often is at 4 o’clock and the children swung high and were happy.

So I thought, as moms do when children are laughing and happy, oh my, I think I can do this. As crazy as the days are with five children not yet school age, I think I can do this! And then, almost as that thought materialized, Charlotte reached the apex of the swing height and inexplicably let go, both hands lifted high in the air. As I watched, in horror, her fall to the ground and land straight on the back of her head, I heard the horrible sound of vomit coming from Quinn’s mouth. Loud and wrenching, vomit everywhere and Charlotte on the ground sobbing.

Then, almost in slow motion, I heard the baby-bunching gods snort-laughing and high-fiving each other.

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Our family was featured in the North Bay Bohemian this week. Click the link above to read or pick up a copy at any of the Bohemian stands around the county.

It was a pleasure to talk with Rachel Dovey, staff writer for the Bohemian to talk about the highs and lows of adoption. My interest in discussing our adoption for the newspaper was two-fold: to get the word out on the horrific living condition of the people in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and to also discuss that while adoption is beautiful and necessary, it is not easy.

Adoption–international, toddler, and more-than-one–(why, oh why, do I always choose the hardest path?) can be trying, to say the least. I love the beauty of it, rich with hope, love and spiritual metaphor, but the nitty-gritty, feet-on-the-ground of it is that it can be a daily battle at least in the beginning, so gather support ’round because you’re going to need a whole lot of loved ones holding your arms up.

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Adopting two toddlers internationally is interesting.

Adopting two toddlers who speak a different language than you is….very interesting.

Who the heck even really knows what toddlers are saying half the time even when you DO speak the same language, sobbing over too-tight socks and backwards shoes and popsicles being too drippy and you-name-it-it’s-a-crisis. Throw a language barrier in there and you’ve got the makings of a real good time.

A sweet friend of mine recommended a language translation app that works well for her husband in his line of work. So I quickly downloaded it and gave it the old college try with Charlotte.

Hmmm. No wonder I never know what she and Grayson are talking about. Read full report on this site and